


I Miss Your Mom

by Krit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I am going to the special hell, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krit/pseuds/Krit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fic that explores what happens if you take the amazing Stilinski family relationship and twist it slightly to the left while turning their codependency up to 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Miss Your Mom

The first time it happened, it was almost nothing. Stiles was thirteen. It had been six months since they buried his mother. Six months since his father had been sober. John looked at him with watery eyes. He placed his hand under Stiles’ chin and lifted his face up.

“I miss your mom.” He whispered. “You look like her, you know that?” His thumb reached up and brushed over his son’s lips. When Stiles opened his mouth to respond, his father pulled his hand away. “Go to bed kiddo. You have school in the morning.” He pressed a kiss to Stiles’ forehead and stumbled back down the stairs, presumably to sleep on the sofa again. He hadn’t slept in his bed in six months.

~*~

The second time was six months after that. Stiles knew because it was the one year anniversary of her death. Stiles walked down the hallway and saw his father sitting on his bed for the first time in a year. In one hand was a glass of whiskey and in the other was a picture. Stiles could only see the frame from the doorway, but he knew who was in the photo. He stepped into the room slowly, as if afraid any sudden movements would startle his father. John looked up and set the drink and photo on the nightstand.

“Come here kiddo.” Stiles gave him a sad smile and curled up next to him. All they had left was each other. John pulled him close and kissed the top of his head. “I miss your mom.” He murmured.

“Me too.”

They sat together like that for a while, Stiles wasn’t sure how long. John’s hand ran through Stiles’ hair, down to squeeze his shoulder, up and down his arm. Stiles fell asleep and when he woke up, Johns hand was under his shirt, running up his spine and over his ribs and back down again.

“Dad?” the hand stilled and rested on his hip.

“Go back to sleep.” John muttered. Stiles pressed his face against his father’s chest and did just that.

~*~

Stiles lost track of the numbers after that. It became common in their household. John would come home from work and start drinking. Stiles would make and serve dinner. They would curl up on the couch and John would talk about her. His hands straying as he did so. Stiles never said anything about it. He just pressed his face against his father’s chest and held him tight. They needed each other.

~*~

When Stiles turned fifteen, he grabbed the glass from his father’s hand and took a sip for himself.

“Not bad.” He choked out, his face twisting in a sour grimace. John chuckled and took the glass back.

“Alright, I’m cutting you off.”

Stiles laughed, his face lighting back up, reminding John so much of her. His own smile fell from his face.

“What’s wrong?”

John shook his head and put the glass down.

“I miss your mom.” John pulled him closer until Stiles was straddling his lap. Stiles hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his dad’s neck.

“I miss her too.” He whispered. They stayed like that for a moment, John rubbing Stiles’ back softly. Then he pushed gently at Stiles’ shoulders until he was facing him again. He gave him a sad smile and stroked his thumb along Stiles’ cheek.

“Happy birthday son.”

Stiles smiled and pressed his forehead against John’s. 

“Thanks.”

John’s hand slid from Stiles’ face to the back of his head and pulled him forward, their lips pressing against each other gently, before he let him go. John pulled back with a confused and guilt ridden look on his face.

“I… I’m sorry son. I don’t know why…”

Stiles shook his head and squeezed his dad’s shoulder.

“Shhh. It’s ok. I get it.” Stiles reached over and downed the rest of the whiskey before putting the empty glass back on the end table. “It’s ok.” He whispered, leaning forward and reconnecting their lips. His father needed him. They needed each other. Maybe this was what they needed.

~*~

Christmas was always tough. As much as Stiles tried to fill the void his mother left behind, it still wasn’t enough. He made Christmas dinner the way she used to. It didn’t taste the same, but his father still smiled and told him it was wonderful. Their drinks were more rum than egg nog and by the time they stretched out on John’s bed to watch Christmas movies, Stiles’ face was warm and his vision was fuzzy. John’s arm was wrapped around Stiles’ waist, fingers rubbing his belly. Everything was fine and peaceful until a commercial came on the tv. A happy family of a dad, a mom, and their son sharing Christmas. Stiles felt his father tense up beside him and quickly turned the tv off.

“I miss your mom.” He whispered, sounding close to tears. The pain in his father’s voice broke Stiles’ heart. He pressed close to him and stroked the side of his face.

“It’s ok.” He kissed him softly, knowing it would make him feel better, trying not to admit that it made himself feel better to. John held him close and deepened the kiss, tangling their legs together. He tasted like rum, and peppermint, and home. When Stiles felt John get hard against his hip he wasn’t afraid. He felt safe. He didn’t stop to think about what they were doing. What it meant. What anyone else would think or say. They needed this. They needed to take care of each other. Stiles arched against him, his own erection growing.

“Stiles…” His father whispered harshly against his lips.

“It’s ok.” Stiles smiled softly, his eyes shining, and he knew if he widened them just a bit and quirked the corner of his mouth just right, he looked just like her. “It’s ok.” He kissed him again. This time there was no hesitation on either side. Hands removed clothes and slid over skin. Their bodies moved and pressed together until Stiles was on his back and John was above him, kissing every inch of his face and neck. The little voice in the back of Stiles’ head that whispered _Something’s not quite right here_ was drowned out and replaced by one that shouted _Safe. Home. Alive._

John pulled back for a moment to retrieve a half empty bottle of lube from the back of his nightstand. It was more than a few years old, from the more adventurous days of his marriage. But he was fairly sure lubricant didn’t expire. Stiles’ eyes fluttered slightly when John rubbed a slicked finger against his entrance. He took a deep breath and nodded, placing a hand on the side of his father’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss as the finger slid inside.

John spent more time than might have been necessary on preparing him, pausing every so often to make sure he was ok. Finally Stiles let out a noise that was half laugh and half moan.

“Yes! Alright? I’m ready.” He hitched a leg up and around John’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Impatient brat.” John chuckled fondly, kissing Stiles on the nose. There was pain when John finally pushed in, but Stiles breathed through it, his hands clutching his father’s shoulders. “You’re alright kiddo. That’s my boy.” Stiles whimpered and moaned as John rolled his hips slowly. The stretch and the burn filling every void and crack that had formed since his mother got sick. They clung to each other, Stiles’ hips jerking up to meet John’s. It was slow and gentle, but frantic at the same time. Choked moans and whispers of; “I love you.”, “Don’t leave me.”, and “I’m not going anywhere.” echoed through the room. They stayed entwined together long after they were done, and fell asleep to each other’s heart beats and the howling wind outside.

~*~

After that night, John’s drinking decreased considerably. They stop talking about her. Their physical relationship began slipping back into something closer to father and son. They still took care of each other. They were still close. But things changed. A body was found in the woods. Scott became a werewolf. Stiles spent less and less time at home.

~*~

Maybe getting his father drunk to trick him into talking about the case isn’t the classiest move in the world. But Stiles isn’t the classiest guy in the world. Then he gets the information he needs and he’s out of his chair with his phone in his hand.

“You know I miss talking to you. It’s like we never have time.”

“Dad you know, I have to make a phone call. I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.” He hates walking out on his dad. But there’s so much going on.

“I do. I miss it.” Stiles began to walk away, barely listening. “And I miss your mom.” That stops him dead. He hadn’t heard those words in quite some time. He turned back to his father, his voice vulnerable and disbelieving.

“What’d you say?” As John moved to refill his glass, Stiles reached out and stopped him, placing his hand firmly over his father’s and turning the bottle upright. John smiled softly and nodded.

“Thanks.” He whispered. Stiles stood there for a moment before walking around the table and pressing a kiss to the top of his father’s head.

“I love you dad. I just have something I need to help Scott with. Get some sleep.”

It broke his heart to walk away. But his father wasn’t the only one who needed him anymore.


End file.
